


It's Beyond My Control

by Marquise



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2012-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:38:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/pseuds/Marquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little vulnerability can go a long way. Fill for the kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Beyond My Control

She wakes when the sunlight reaches her eyes, piercing the dark that they have cloistered themselves in. Her mouth is tainted with the taste of old wine, the bitterness of blood and seed, and as sleep leaves her body Barbrey jolts up in a coughing fit.

Petyr is sprawled half-beneath her, still deep in drunken sleep. He doesn’t stir with her retching and when she leaves the bed, stumbling, he merely turns to his side.

Barbrey grabs the wine bottle nearest the table and takes a long drink, rinsing and spitting the remnants of last night into the water basin. Mouth clean, she drinks deep, hoping it will bring some peace to her head.

They had lain together more times than she really wants to admit, but she had never before allowed herself to sleep with him. That was an unspoken line that neither of them had crossed.

Hands shaking, she wraps herself in last night's gown. On steady feet, with face of stone, she walks back to her chambers, hand gripping the wine bottle for support.

\-----

She spends the rest of the day sleeping and retching and emerges at dusk refueled with new resolve.

She finds Petyr in his solar. Alayne brings her there, with the cold eyes and oddly mannered steps that Barbrey always finds discomforting. There is something to be said for detachment from the world, but Alayne always has an air about her that suggests she knows more than Barbrey would like. The careful smile she gives as she leaves them be does not help, and not for the first time Barbrey wonders what would happen to her if she reminded the bastard girl of her place.

( _It would just give them something else to whisper about behind my back._ )

Alone, Petyr looks at her with red-rimmed eyes, but nothing else about his behavior suggests he has any memory of the night before, or more importantly the dawn.

Still, she can’t let that deaden her resolve. She balls her hands into fists and moves forward. “It’s done.”

Petyr says nothing for the longest time and his face betrays no emotion. Then he relaxes and smiles one of his well-practiced smiles. “So it is.”

\-----

But the Eyrie is a cold, queer place.

Two days later he fights with Alayne and brings wine to Barbrey’s chambers. She regards him with suspicion, but after a drink the words again pour out of her.

Petyr matches her drink for drink, confession for confession. Before she knows it the distance between them is no more, and his teeth are grazing her neck.

She hates herself for it, but all her control slips away, destroyed by the sweet taste of mutual dislike.

She supposes she can have one weakness.


End file.
